


A Life that is Scratched

by ilithyia



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Assassin's Creed III, Assassins vs. Templars, Childbirth, Connor Kenway - Freeform, Gen, haytham kenway - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:01:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28708590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilithyia/pseuds/ilithyia
Summary: Kaniehtí:io, a Mohawk woman known as the rebel of her tribe, returns home after battling the British against her mother's wishes. Pregnant by a mysterious British man who betrayed her trust, she wonders if the child will ever feel the love of her tribe, or the world. Perhaps they already carry the burden of a generational struggle, a child that has been blessed by a cursed life, a soul that claws its way for freedom, a life that is scratched.★★★A work that fills in the gap between Kaniehti:io leaving Haytham up until the end of her life. Written because Ziio is a majorly underrated character, and so much of her before Haytham is unknown. (also ACIII is just a game of wasted potential and is way too short so anything continuing its story is a gift) Fills in gaps that exist in the main game. I am not Mohawk, so this book does not cover anything more than what the game portrays, as anything more than that is not my story to tell. However, it does include some of the beautiful language (only a little bit, translations included). In my mind, this is what happened. Hopefully after reading, it is to you as well. Takes place from 1756-1760. Completely canon-compliant.
Relationships: Kaniehtí:io | Ziio & Ratonhnhaké:ton | Connor, Kaniehtí:io | Ziio/Haytham Kenway
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this a while ago. it's seven chapters. i may post all of them even if this gets like 2 views and a comment calling me an idiot. it's not very good. translations at the end :)

_ ‘ **A LIFE THAT IS SCRATCHED'** _

_ “Remember that your children are not your own, but are lent to you by the Creator.” -Mohawk Proverb _

**I**

Her cries shook the ground beneath her, though they fell upon deaf ears. The cloth draped over her did little to sooth her discomfort, and for that, it was discarded. Such had become a theme in the past few hours.

* * *

  
  


_ \- APRIL 4 1756 - _

The sky had generously colored the sky in the early hours of the day it happened. Various hues of lavender and pink intruded upon the usual warm tones of orange. At first they only tickled the horizon, timid and tender, soon graduating to a glorious dance among the hazy clouds. Spring was reborn once more. 

A sudden cry broke her solemn reverie, and only then did she stop to wonder how long she had been watching. Had it been that long? The cry was relentless, drowning out the shushes and coos that miserably failed to douse them. Once, Kaniehti:io would have cursed the sound that stung her ears. But no longer. Instead, she rose to her knees (with no small measure of effort) and dusted off her robes.

"Katsí:tsa," she peered through the entrance of the neighboring longhouse, one hand resting on the door frame, the other caressing the bottom of her protruding stomach, "has he latched on yet?"

" _ Sekon _ , Kaniehtí:io!" Her friend beckoned her closer with a hurried gesture, then resumed soothing the newborn. "Just an hour ago, yes."

"And his name? What did Oiá:ner choose?" It was the Clan Mother who bore the responsibility of naming all those born into the tribe, much to her daughter's dismay.

"Kanen'tó:kon." 

"It is beautiful." Although she was invited in, she knew better than to come any closer and misplace their energy. To avoid such calamity, Kaniehtiio cautiously took a step back. Still, her conscience worked against her, yearning for the shared euphoria of mother and child. Katsí:tsa noticed this desperation in Kaniehtí:io's face as Kanen'tó:kon fell quiet.

"Yours will be with you soon, my friend," A hand reached out to comfort the woman still laden with a child. Kaniehtí:io looked down at herself and was greeted with a sight that was all too familiar: nothing but her formidable, aching stomach.

"I know, I know. But it is becoming unbearable. And seeing you with him, it-" caution paused her, knowing better than to get irrational in her complaints. 

Just before her friend could respond, the child erupted with a hearty cry that was met with shushes and coos. Kaniehtí:io took the hint to leave, only to then be greeted with a familiar sharp pain that started at the small of her back and travelled down her right leg. She grasped the nearest ledge right outside, resting her weight on her left side while her face scrunched up in a pained scowl. 

" _ Kheien:’a _ ! Are you still with child?" Oiá:ner's soft voice came from behind her, knowing full well that her grandchild had not yet arrived, but entertaining the idea nonetheless. 

"Yes, mother." Kaniehtí:io managed to let out as she massaged her abdomen and the discomfort died down. She had hoped to escape her prying questions, or at least delay them for a few more hours. 

"Let me have a look at him, Kaniehtí:io." Oiá:ner poked at her daughters back with her cane, eliciting a curse from her.

"Are you intent on making me miserable this morning?" She rubbed the now sore spot on her back. Such a prod would have had no effect on her only a year before, but now her sensitivity had become overwhelming. "And 'him'? How can you be so sure?"

"I have a feeling," Oiá:ner spoke with a conviction that could only be found in holy texts. Her young daughter was the only one brave enough to challenge the elder's intuition. "Have you been eating partridgeberry?"

"No." A lie, through and through.

"You should, it will hasten the process." Oiá:ner sighed, her own impatience growing close to her daughter's. Kaniehtí:io, uneased by her mother's mention of childbirth, changed the topic. "I have a feeling it will be a girl. Strong-willed, a warrior like the women before her."

"And stubborn, like the  _ yakon:kwe _ who will bear her." Oiá:ner chuckled softly, though her daughter was not as amused. 

_ You fare no better... _

Kaniehtí:io's head was too preoccupied to defend herself. Her mind was filled with worries that she would soon face, worries that she had refrained from speaking of before, fearing she might weaken her demeanor. Oiá:ner took her hand and placed in it several small, red beads of fruit. She pushed it against her daughter's chest and nodded in understanding. 

"He will be with us soon, my child. Soon. The Creator is just holding onto him a bit longer." Oiá:ner began to trail off then, not wishing to upset her daughter any longer. Kaniehtí:io was the one to pursue the conversation further.

"I often wonder if I am strong enough." The words tumbled from her mind and spilled out her lips, words that had previously never been spoken. But such an occasion called for unprecedented circumstances. 

"Did I hear you right, Kaniehtí:io? Is my daughter questioning her own strength?" Oiá:ner turned her head to see Kaniehtí:io wince in accordance to her mother's shock. "There is no one more suited to childbirth than you, Kaniehtí:io. You have the strength of a thousand bulls." 

The words did little to comfort Kaniehtí:io, but this would not be shown. She instead smiled, and thanked her mother promptly.

" _ Niá:wen _ . I should be off. I will be in the forest to the east." Kaniehtí:io would be off to the west, but it was her nature to lie about her whereabouts. Pregnancy would not halt her independence. Nor would it interfere with her activeness, for such laziness could awaken the habit in her own child.

__

* * *

Kaniehtí:io found herself in the midst of the foliage of a slippery elm, whose inner bark would ease her pain during childbirth. Normally, she would hoist herself up to the highest bough of the tree with a trained swiftness and grace unlike any other. But, being as far along as she was, her body would not allow it. She resorted to a low-hanging branch that she shucked until stripped of its natural remedy. 

At the sight of the first star in the sky, Kaniehtí:io began the journey back to the village. She placed the bark and herbs she had collected back in her satchel and dusted off her robes. She was not far, she never went too far these days, but it was long enough to leave her with her thoughts. 

She thought of the elk she had passed earlier, who had strayed away from the herd. She thought of Katsí:tsa and her son, of whom she was jealous. She thought of the  _ akweks  _ that she watched capture a squirrel with ultimate precision. She thought of the white men, who were no doubt planning their next attack. 

And she thought of Haytham, the father of her child. He would sleep soundly that night, like the night before and the upcoming one, not knowing that his seed had been planted in the grounds of a Native tribe. It was Kaniehtí:io's decision to keep this from him, which was not a hard one to make, knowing he could not bear the responsibility of fatherhood. His eyes were ever fixed upon the future, and through them she saw his twisted vision of a new world. One ruled by order, void of freedom. Kaniehtí:io feared she would one day look into the eyes of her own and see the same coldness there. This was her reasoning for leaving him, among others. She nor her child would be disoriented by his ignorance and ruin.

Worried that his presence in her consciousness would upset her child, she shook the thought of him as quickly as it came to her. Flutters of kicks brought her back to the present. 

The crackling of fire drew closer, and so Kaniehtí:io slowed her pace. 

Her contentment was soon disrupted by an intense pain in her lower abdomen, causing her body to retreat to the ground. While she dug her nails into the dirt and her knees bruised from her weight, Kaniehtí:io endured her first contraction.

__  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sekon- hello  
> kheien:’a- my daughter  
> yakon:kwe- woman  
> niá:wen- thank you  
> akweks- eagle


	2. II

**II**

They were few and far between, but each contraction proved more unbearable than the last. Every twenty minutes or so Kaniehtí:io would hunch over and cry out, her forehead pressed to the ground while her hand grasped her stomach in desperation. After the agonizing minute had passed, she would stumble to her feet and trek onwards.

With no desire to warn her tribe of the impending newcomer, Kaniehtí:io sought a place she had picked out earlier. An area sacred to her people, the location only known to the most important members of the tribe. It was a cave, inscribed with strange markings and the story of Iottisitison. Just behind it lie a creek, where she would wash her child clean. Just a short time ago, she had desecrated the sanctity of the location by violating her tribe’s vow of secrecy. The air was thick with treachery and deceit, false promises and meaningless prayers whispered their bitter song in her ear. She was desperate to restore its virtue.

When she arrived there, dawn had risen. Her contractions were merely minutes apart now. The slippery elm had outlived its use and her satchel was thrown to the side along with the rest of her clothes. The luxury of woven blankets and cotton was not available, so Kaniehtí:io planted her roots on the cave floor. Just as she began to see the first strands of daylight, hours of labor tensed up inside her, and with a few mighty, dreadful pushes she delivered her child. 

“ _ Raksá:’a _ !”

Kaniehtí:io held her breath until he drew his first. A greedy gasp, inhaling all the air he could. Wails ensued. Tiny fists clenched and released once pressed against the bare skin he had grown so close to in the past ten months.

She brought him to her chest and hummed gently, her fingers gently unraveling the dark hair stuck to his head.

“Ratonhnhaké:ton,” Kaniehtí:io whispered, relishing in his presence. “ _ Konnoronhkwa _ .”

With his name now spoken into existence, his feet kicked free of her grasp and his wails resumed. His strength came as no shock to his mother, a sign of unwavering life that was present in the womb. It had been written in their genetic code that vulnerability wasn't an option. Even during his first moments of life, Kaniehtí:io wondered how soon it would be until her son became her protector. She feared her recklessness would soon catch up to her, endangering not only her life but his as well. Maybe that time had arrived long ago.

She felt a strong urge to rid and wash away the negativity that she had brought to her nest, as well as the afterbirth that Ratohnhaké:ton didn't seem all too pleased with. At the creek, she began to wipe him off with her clothes as she dipped him into the water. Hooded eyes blinked open and stared at the woman before him. 

“ _ Sekon _ , Ratonhnhaké:ton.” Kaniehtí:io’s fingers traced over her son's freckled nose and caressed his chin. She planted a kiss on his forehead. “ _ O tsi tehskahrí:ios _ .” 

She took his hand in her own and once again worry coiled her in its vice grip. She studied the nimble digits that grasped at nothing. His skin was several shades lighter than her own. A shade her people had come to despise and turn away. A shade reminiscent of the white man.

* * *

“Kaniehtí:io! We were just about to send a search party. How foolish are you, child?”

“Do you think me stupid, mother? I can defend myself. There is no danger in the forest.” 

Oiá:ner, ridden with anger, pointed her spear-headed cane directly at her daughter’s stomach. 

“Had it been anyone else, I would agree. You think I have forgotten your affiliations with the white men? Or need I remind you of the child in your stomach?” 

Kaniehtí:io stood strong against her mother’s blade. She had faced it more than most, and could recall every notch on its splintered end. She drew her hands up in the air and took a step back. Slowly, her hands lowered and unraveled the cloth that was taut against her body, revealing the silken skin of her newborn. Her eyes did not depart from her mother’s gaze, watching intently as she lowered her cane. Oiá:ner shuffled towards them, arms outstretched.

__ “ _ Nahó:ten ronwá:iats _ ?” A voice called from behind, that of Kawisenhawe. The other onlookers looked to Oiá:ner to answer, but it was Kaniehtí:io who spoke first.

“Ratonhnhaké:ton.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> raksá:’a- a boy  
> Ratonhnhaké:ton- a life that is scratched (pronounced ra-doon-ha-gay-doon)  
> konnoronhkwa- i love you  
> o tsi tehskahrí:ios- you have beautiful eyes  
> nahó:ten ronwá:iats- what is his name  
> sekon- hello


	3. III

**III** ****

\- JUNE 1756 -

Most stayed their distance from Kaniehti:io. Not out of fear, and certainly not resentment. She was respected and loved. Still, it remained an unspoken rule that she was not to be approached under ordinary terms. This was not due to any honor or nobility, as her birthright of becoming Clan Mother had been denied by her own. Rather, the differences that set her apart from the tribe naturally repelled the others, maybe out of concern that they too would adopt her foreign ideals. 

Ratonhnhaké:ton, however, was not met with the same treatment. His mother's concerns were taken by the river he first bathed in. His honeyed skin and flushed pink cheeks had been admired and doted upon by everyone in Kanatahseton. His face knew kisses better than his mother's breast.

“ _O tsi kawirí:io_!” They would say, pinching his cheeks.

“ _O tsi seksa’tí:io_!” They would say, kissing his forehead.

Ratonhnhaké:ton, too young to comprehend their compliments, would reply with gurgles and occasionally spit up. It was on this day when he formed his first smile.

“I do not believe you. You were just bathing him?” Kaniehtí:io had a certain distaste for her mother that had grown since her son’s birth. While she tried to cut all tradition that the Clan Mother laid claim to, her annoyance was met with no end. She only won the battle concerning his name by the skin of her teeth. Of course, she knew the importance of the bond he should form with his grandmother. She was aware of her mother’s every right to see him, hold him, spend time with him. But she could not settle for a world where her mother would have more of an influence on her son’s life than her. 

_“Hen, tsi iohsahere.”_ Oia:ner spoke with a hushed sort of sincerity while she rocked Ratonhnhaké:ton. He stirred, eyes fluttering open and gawking at the elm planks that towered above him. 

Kaniehtí:io watched silently, coldly, as grandmother and grandchild exchanged love for one another. They danced to their own song of love, a melody that was unfamiliar to Kaniehtí:io. There was an energy there, an undeniable connection that was not present during her own upbringing. She could not help but wonder what she was more envious of: her mother’s relationship with her son, or the one she was deprived of.

“Please, may I have my son?” She choked back the words she wanted to say, a lump forming in her throat. 

Oia:ner shifted her body so she faced away from her daughter, feigning ignorance toward her plea. The way she positioned herself made it seem she was using her body to shield Ratonhnhaké:ton from his mother. “It was a most beautiful sight. You will make a fine _roiá:ner_ , Ratonhnhaké:ton.”

Kaniehtí:io’s eyes narrowed, eyeing her mother with a particular coldness. Part of her was grateful that she was raising her son on a land sacred to her people, a land that held all of his family, his life, his love. A land he could always depend on, a land he would cherish as his own. But another part of her, the part of her that got her into the most trouble, felt as if she was betraying his right to freedom by keeping him within the confines of these walls. Such is the duty of a mother to worry, and Kaniehtí:io acted upon instinct and emotion.

“I will not ask again, _ista_.” Kaniehtí:io stepped forward. Although her eyes were on her mother and son, her mind distantly wandered. Oiá:ner hesitantly gave her Ratonhnhaké:ton, eyes following the transaction with great concern. Kaniehtí:io turned away from her mother and brought her son to her chest. He snuggled up to her breast as she wrapped a linen cloth around them, binding him to her. 

“What are you doing?” Oia:ner grabbed her hand as it reached for a beaver pelt. Kaniehtí:io swatted it away and maintained her silence as she wrapped the pelt around herself. “You do not mean to leave the village now?” 

“That is what I intend.” Kaniehtí:io’s words were harsh and unforgiving.

“I will not allow it. You are to stay inside. I will not see my daughter and grandson off into peril.” Oia:ner stood in front of the entranceway, her frail stature making for a poor defense against the wind much less her daughter. It was her persistence and rationale that kept her stance strong. 

“And you just mean to keep me confined in here like cattle? I am leaving. Whether it will please you or not.” Kaniehtí:io continued to pack up a satchel with dried berries.

“You are bull-headed, Kaniehtí:io. Defiant to the end. I fear you will instill those traits into my child.”

“ _Your_ child?” Kaniehtí:io spat, her hands moving to swaddle her son’s body, “Have you lost your head? Is it your _onon:ta_ he drinks? Is it with you he spends every waking moment? Is it with you he learns to see the world? He is _riien:a_.”

“It is with me he will learn the ways of our people. It is with me he is safe. It is with me he _smiles_.” Had it not been for the presence of a baby, Oia:ner’s words would have not been needed.

“What ways? The ways of a people too frightened to protect their home?” Kaniehtí:io felt humiliated by her tribe’s choice to not fight back against the British who sought to take their land and its people. For all their strength and wisdom, she felt that they should know better, yet only she held the belief that they should interfere. These ideals kept Kaniehtí:io from becoming the clan mother she had been groomed to be. Still, it would take more than a loss of a title for her to abandon her stance. “Our people sit idly by while war is raging and turmoil plagues our lands. We watch as the fire of our demise is kindled. It is the British that attend to these flames, taking us for ignorant fools. It will not be much longer until that fire reaches our frontier,” Her mother’s knuckles turned white around her cane. “I will not let my son suffer that fate.”

“Teiowí:sonte!” Oia:ner called out for a younger, brutish man of the tribe. A warrior with the scars to show for it. “See to it that she does not leave this longhouse.”

* * *

Kaniehtí:io did not know how long she had been sleeping, or what time it was. She only knew that it was dark and Teiowí:sonte no longer stood by her. She rose quietly, not only to avoid the detection of her people, but also to not disturb her son. She could feel his heartbeat against her own, strong and slow. 

Steady footwork was crucial to not arouse suspicion. Her vision was obscured, the path lit only by the dying embers of fire. She cursed the ground below her as it crunched under her weight. It became abundantly clear that her languid movements were not suitable to the situation; the careful steps only drew out their noise. With a sharp intake of breath, she wrapped her arms around her body to tightly bind her son as to ensure his staying put, and sprinted across her land. Her agile body made a swift exit through the narrow entrance of the wall. It was only then when she had second thoughts, thoughts of turning around and heeding her mother's warnings. 

_Defiant to the end._

Her body continued forward while her mind remained restless, torn between a world of conformity and one of desire. 

Her feet carried her through the frontier's landscape with little ease. Her strides were long and hard. It seemed she awoke the entire forest with her ruckus. Foxes yelped as they emerged from the dens they thought were safe and darted across the terrain. She would stumble over protruding roots and catch her fall only before her son suffered from her fumbling. Though she could be forgiven due to the dark, it was clear her skill was not up to par with what it once was. 

Ratonhnhaké:ton’s whining only added to the midnight disturbance in an otherwise quiet forest. “Soon, my son. I beg of you, keep quiet for a moment longer." Her pleads were met with no remorse, the wailing only becoming louder. 

She unwound the swaddling from around her abdomen, releasing Ratonhnhaké:ton who revelled in the ability to extend his arms once again. They grasped for his mother's breasts and clawed at the fabric that kept him from feeding.

Ratonhnhaké:ton suckled mercilessly. Kaniehtí:io ran her fingers over his thick, unruly hair. It was not black like his father’s, but a deep brown much like her own. He was exceptionally portly, a testament to how much he fed. As he nodded off, Kaniehtí:io took his face in between her hands and brushed his cheeks with her thumbs. 

“ _Ha saie:son_ , Ratonhnhaké:ton,” Kaniehtí:io kissed his temples and pressed him against her skin. “Do not listen to the _akoksten:ha_. I will protect you with my life.”

* * *

“Kesegowaase?” It was just about dawn now, and the figure on the hunting perch above began to take on more of a form. A familiar one, to Kaniehtí:io’s utmost gratitude. “Is that you?” 

_Or am I pushing my luck?_

The silhouette remained put. Was it, too, weary of an unpredicted presence? Perhaps it had been waiting for her the entire time, following close by, stalking her with a predatory ambition? Certainly Kaniehtí:io, for all of her training, would have noticed such an overt threat. 

The world fell silent, all but for a few seconds, until the unmistakable sound of a hidden blade engaging pierced the air.

“It is me! Kaniehtí:io!” Had it been under any other circumstance, she would have not let her guard down so foolishly. But there was no doubt in her mind that this man was not an ally, his blade proved as much.

"Kaniehtí:io?" From his squat, Kesegowaase leaped with great force toward the ground. He barrelled forward with his shoulder, landing a few meters away. He rose to face Kaniehtí:io and brushed off his tunic.

“It has been too long, sister,” He went in for an embrace, but just as soon discovered the child tethered to her body. “And who might this one be?”

“Ratonhnhaké:ton,” Her voice fell soft, pulling down the cloth just enough to reveal his gentle features. He remained blissfully unaware of his whereabouts at present, but would one day know these fields as his own.

A smile tugged at Kesegowaase’s lips. It wasn’t rare, per se, for him to smile, but it was certainly out of character for who Kaniehtí:io regarded as the greatest native warrior in the valley. “Gone soft, have you?”

He chuckled and gave her a hefty pat on the arm. “Not quite. The Brotherhood has seen to that.”

“Speaking of, how goes your fight?” Perhaps now wasn't the most optimal time or place for idle chat, but Kaniehtí:io couldn't help herself. It had been nearly a year since she had last escaped the confines of Kanatahseton. She wanted nothing more than to reconnect with her old friend. 

"Relentless as ever,” He started, her words awakening a profound unrest. “Those Templars are an ineradicable lot.”

“I had forgotten their name, ‘Templars’.” The word tasted bitter on Kaniehtí:io’s tongue. 

“May I ask why you never stayed with us, Kaniehtí:io? You showed great promise.” Kesegowaase figured he had his answer, considering the child she swayed gently. 

Her eyes fell to her son. “I am not one to align with a cause other than my own,” Her words were laced with shame. Too proud to align even with her own tribe, it seemed.

Kesegowaase placed a hand on her shoulder. “We were happy to have you, nonetheless,” He gave her a nod before shifting his attention to the rising sun that peered between the oak. “Forgive me, Kaniehtí:io, but I presume it is not me you came here for. The manor, I take it?”

Kaniehtí:io nodded. “I must speak with Achilles.”

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> O tsi kawirí:io- what a nice baby  
> O tsi seksa’tí:io- you are so cute  
> Hen, tsi iohsahere- yes, at the bay  
> roiá:ner- chief  
> ista- mother  
> riien:a- my son  
> onon:ta- breast milk  
> Ha saie:son- (telling him to) smile  
> akoksten:ha- old woman

**Author's Note:**

> sekon- hello  
> kheien:’a- my daughter  
> yakon:kwe- woman  
> niá:wen- thank you  
> akweks- eagle


End file.
